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IN FLIGHT 



IN FLIGHT 



BY 



ROSALIE M. CODY 




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DUFFIELD AND COMPANY 

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Copyright, 1916 
l)v DUFFIELD & COMPANY 




DEC 20 1916 



CI.A453190 



1^ ,1 ' 



TO THE FEW WHO WILL CARE 



Thanks are due to the editors of various peri- 
odicals, for their courteous permission to reprint 
many of the following poems. 



11^ FLIGHT 

Bright-winged butterflies of thoughts 
Go floating, floating by; 
Oh, for a golden net of words 
To catch them as they fly I 



CONTENTS 



PART I.— Sonnets 



With Seas Between 
Her Hyacinths 
The King 
The Dream 
In the Convent 
At Dawn . 
Rupert Brooke . 
A Memorial Organ 



page 
1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

9 



PART n. — The Violet of Poesy and Other Poems 



The Violet of Poesy 




• 










13 


At Night . . . . 












14 


Outlook 














15 


Roses 














16 


On the River . 














17 


The Eyes I Love 














18 


A Valentine 














. 19 


To Philomela . 














20 


Friends 














21 


Blows 














23 


Sunward . 














24 


Satisfied . 














25 


On Decoration Day 














. 26 



In Memory 
Bond or Free 
The Best Gifts 



CONTENTS 



page 
28 

30 

31 



PART III.— Frolic 



Her Summer Vacation 


1 










35 


The Solemn Truth . 


^ , 








37 


The New Maid . 












38 


A Sympathetic Tear 












39 


Their Beastly Gossip 












40 


A Warm Fight . 












43 


Making Things Do . 












44 


A Born Diplomat 












46 


Ned's Birthday Wish 












47 


Santa's Substitute . 












48 


Merry Christmas 












49 



PART IV. — Through the Year 



January Bells . 










. 53 


February Second 










. 55 


Forerunners 










. 57 


April Snow 










. 58 


May 










60 


June 










61 


July 










. 62 


My Hay-fever Sweetheart 










. 63 


Golden-rod . . . . 


4 






« 


64 


October .... 


• 








. 65 



CONTENTS 



Thanksgiving . 
Christmas-wreath 



PAGE 

66 

67 



PART v.— Shadows 



My Wall of Comforts 


. 


. 71 


Whither . 


. 


. n 


But Once . 


• 


. 75 


Heart's Winter 




. 76 


Belgium . . . . 


• • • • 


. 11 


The American Mother 


. 


. 79 


PART VT.- 


-A Lovely Day 





A Lovely Day 



83 



I 

SOl^ri^ETS 



WITH SEAS BETWEEN 

Those loved ones gathei*ed round the friendly 

board — 
The picture haunts me by this alien sea : 
What wealth upon my life has each outpoured 
Of boundless, openhearted sympathy. 
The smile that spoke a welcome without word, 
Dispelling loneliness as sun the dew; 
The clasp of hand which trust of heart conferred ; 
For these the wanderer yearns the wide world 

through. 
Though swelling seas and mountain height divide, 
My thoughts overleap them to the moment when 
Your door on welcoming hinge once more flung 

wide 
Shall bid me gladly enter in again. 
Before my eyes rise minaret and dome, — 
My heart sees only that dear, distant home. 

[1] 



HEK HYACIJ^THS 

If I had but two piasters, with one I would buy bread and feed 
my body. With the other I would buy hyacinths and feed my 
soul. — Mohammed. 

Her days are filled with toil and homely cares ; 

It would not seem a life to make one glad, 
Yet with a cheery smile she onward fares, 

And every day some heart is left less sad. 
Word-pictures paint a scene for sightless eyes, 

A call to courage lights a lamp of hope, 
And fainting resolution, with surprise 

Awakens, strong with stubborn fate to cope. 
So all along her weary way upspringing. 

Sweet flowers of remembrance, pure and fair, 
Their wondrous fragrance to the air are flinging. 

And blessings turn to blossoms everywhere. 
Thus hyacinths she buys to feed her soul. 

And love surrounds her like an aureole. 



[2] 



THE KING 

In olden time, when heralds came apace 

And boldly challenged in the Kingly name, 

Great gates of brazen bolts and massive frame 

Obeyed the summons, and straightway gave place. 

All custom changes with a changing race, 

But evermore has this remained the same 

Since first, with power, demand for ingress came 

From him who carried high the royal mace. 

To-day, all beetling barricades go down 

At name of him who lightly wears the crown; 

And baffling walls in sudden ruin fall 

When loudly rings, and rings again the call, 

^'Give way ! Give way ! The monarch comes, in 

truth, 
'^Clear-eved, broad-chested, lion-hearted Youth !" 



[3] 



THE DREAM 

In the young morning, when the lifted face 
Glows with the color of the eastern beam, 
We lightly think of death as of a dream 
That hides afar some unsubstantial grace. 
But scorching noontide, coming on apace. 
Unsheathes a sword and rends with flying gleam 
The veil 'twixt things that are and things that 

seem — 
Lo ! Death, black-robed, outreaching to embrace. 

This too was seeming. Sunset drawing near 
Dissolves in golden light that specter grim 
And makes a glory of a vanished fear; 
The inner vision clears, while sight grows dim, 
And age, serene, unmoved by failing breath. 
Reads true: life waits beyond the dream called 
death. 



[4] 



m THE CONVENT 

The shining needle's patient task is wrought ; 
Now on her knee she lays the little dress 
With arms outstretched — a filmy daintiness — 
And bends a look with eager sweetness fraught. 
What necromancy works in one swift thought ! 
A gentle weight upon her seems to press, 
And thrilled with sudden yearning to possess, 
Quick to her breast the tiny gown is caught. 
An instant only — then^ with startled glance 
She smoothes the snowy folds, her rapture gone. 
But trembles, for she feels as in a trance 
A baby hand close clinging to her own. 
^^Sweet Mother, feed my hungry heart !" she cries. 
And holds the cross before her tear-filled eyes. 



[5] 



AT DAWIsT 

She looked at me with eyes so grave and sweet, 
The little girl I stopped upon the street 
Because within her faithful arms she bore 
A sleeping child, whose sturdy weight w^as more, 
It seemed, than she should lift ; but when I said, 
'^Too much for you to carry, little mother V^ 
She smiling answered, friendly, unafraid, 
"Oh, no, he isn't heavy ; he's my brother !" 

Happy, she went her way. And as the lark 
With welcoming song feels dawn within the dark. 
My spirit rose and sang. I visioned then 
Great cities growing in the souls of men ; 
Men counting service as the one great good, — 
No weight too heavy borne for brotherhood. 



[6] 



EUPERT BROOKE 



His picture lingers ever in my thought — 

That upturned face with strange prevision 

fraught ; 
The waving hair, deep brow, and steady eye — 
Sweetness and strength with one another vie. 
How well the thrilling joys of sense he told. 
Each treasure named as miser counts his gold; 
With playful tenderness he makes us see 
A social sacrament, his cup of tea. 
But when upon the quiet garden's charm 
Sounded the sudden crash of war's alarm, 
He sprang to manhood — flung his day-dreams far. 
And went to die beneath the crimson star. 
ISTot poet less, but patriot more, he proved 
'Twas England's life, more than his own, he loved. 

[7] 



IN FLIGHT 

II 

A lonely spot by southern breezes fanned, 

The grave where now this "bit of England" sleeps ; 

But scent of lilac and carnation creeps 

From Grantchester to bless the wave-washed 

strand. 
Home in our hearts he comes from that far land, 
And as we bear him onward, no man weeps; 
For tears speak not the quickened pulse that leaps 
That hero-heart to meet and understand. 
How buoyantly he sang his way to death! 
My country and my home — his latest breath. 
And how triumphantly that song he wed 
In measured cadences to martial tread. 
Oh, royal welcome waited when he came — 
Valhalla's full- voiced chorus of acclaim ! 
December, 1915 



[8] 



A MEMOEIAL OKGAN^ 

In quiet shadow, standing jnst apart, 
Yet not removed from busy ways of men, 
Thou waitest for a master-hand again 
To summon music from thy silent heart. 
A fitting shrine, devised of memory's art. 
For loved ones who beyond their widest ken 
Enriched life's harmonies, not dreaming then 
How echoes, to this far-off day, would start. 

Hark, tones arise like softest cradle song 

In tenderness ; then, mounting full and strong, 

The music voices to the listening ear 

Immortal messages of noble cheer. 

Through every strain that wings its way above, 

Kuns the sweet melody of Mother-love. 

*Erected in memory of two mothers. 



[9] 



II 

THE VIOLET OF POESY 
And Other Poems 



THE VIOLET OF POESY 

The violet of poesy 
Upon a slender stem of thought, 
Methinks the triolet must be, 

The violet of poesy ; 
With petals fine, so gracefully 
It rises, with sweet fragrance fraught, 

The violet of poesy 
Upon a slender stem of thought. 



My love is like a violet, 
The flower sweet I fain would wear; 
With daintiness and grace beset 

My love is like a violet. 
And so I sing in triolet — 
This bloom of verse so slight and fair- 

My love is like a violet, 
The flower sweet I fain would wear. 



[13] 



AT :n^ight 

The dragging fret of clay 
Has left my spirit, with its impress deep, 

A manv-furrowed strand; 

But Lethe's waves of gray 
Are washing in; with soft, recurrent sweep 

They smooth the golden sand, 
And stealing down the shining path comes Sleep. 



[14] 



OUTLOOK 

^'PooR little oak leaf 
Clinging to the tree, 
Blown by every gust of wind, 
How lonesome you must be !" 

"Fie !" said the oak leaf, 
"You needn't pity me! 
It's the first time since last Spring 
That Fve had room to see!" 



[15] 



KOSES 

'Tis morning in her garden fair. 
And round her shining red-gold hair 

The sun a halo throws ; 
As with one perfect bloom held high, 
She turns, with the enraptured cry, 

"Oh, how I love the rose!" 

Love's sunshine courses through my veins: 
^o chilling doubt nor fear restrains 

The hope that in me glows. 
I catch the lifted hand in mine, 
And cry, in ecstasy divine, 

''Oh, how I love thee, Rose !" 



[16] 



01^ THE RIVER 

My love is like a river 



Deep it flows; 
Come, cast yourself upon it 

Like a rose ; 
And let it gentlj bear vou, 

Light as foam, 
LTnto that blessed haven 
— Home ! 



[17] 



THE EYES I LOVE 

They do not flash and spar.kle, 

'Nov melt with passion's glow ; 
They do not steal quick glances, 

Then droop white eyelids low ; 
Coquettish arts they know not. 

The sunny eyes I love, 
The magic power that's in them 

They brought from heaven above. 
When they are lifted to me, 

Those clear, dark, steadfast eyes, 
Alight with the glad radiance 

Of love's first sweet surprise. 
Such constancv looks from them. 

Such trust and hope divine, 
I cry, "God bless my darling! 

Bless God, wdio made her mine !" 



[18] 



A VALE:N^Ti:NrE 

A VALENTINE I send to you ; 

'Tis but a sign — 

A valentine, 
Oh, sweetheart mine, that I am true, 
And this sweet sign belongs to you. 
One loving word but send to me ; 

For hope deferred 

One loving w^ord ; 
Light as a bird my heart would be 
Could you but send that word to me. 



[19] 



TO PHILOMELA 

Dear little Philomel, 
Songster from above, 
Welcome to a country 
Brimful of love. 

Trailing clouds of glory 
From your shining wings; 
That's the good old story 
A wise poet sings. 

But they needn't tell us 
Where you had your birth, — 
Haven't you brought heaven 
Straight down to earth? 

Rest, little Philomel, 

For the way was long; 

IJTestle close to mother's heart 

And learn a new song. 

May 21, 1916 

[20] 



FKIENDS 

A WEARY traveler, at close of day 

I stop for rest and shelter on my way, 

And, lonely stranger in a stranger's room, 

I watch the shadow-heralds of the gloom 

Steal softly in, and, gliding through the place, 

Wrap every object in a fast embrace. 

Meanwhile, my wandering gaze moves here and 

there, 
A rover, idle as my fancies are. 
To rest, at last, with half-nnconscions looks. 
Upon a little shelf of well-worn books 
Whose outlined forms but dimly can be seen. 
So close the veil of darkness dropped between. 
Lo ! through the slanted shutter swift there flies 
One laggard sunbeam from the western skies ; 
Straight to the books it flits, a homing dove. 
And, in its light, gleam out the names I love 1 

[21] 



IN FLIGHT 



^Twas there, 'tis gone ! But not the grace it lends, 
The room, transformed, is full of well-loved 
friends. 



[22 



BLOWS 

A WHIPPING-POST for the brute who will maim 
With his bludgeon blows a woman's frame; 
And shall justice demand of him no toll 
Who lashes with words her quivering soul ? 



[23] 



SUNWARD 

My land lies sloping toward the east, ' 

Blessed bv the sunshine's earliest ray; 
The summer rain, with light caress, 

Glides gently dowTi its emerald way. 
The dowTiy cover Winter weaves 

Rolls swiftly back in Spring's warm hand, 
And sets the happy hillside free. 

For sloping eastward lies my land. 



[24] 



SATISFIED 

F. E. D. 

TiiKOUGH all the lengthening days of 

weary pain, 
At restless bidding of a fevered brain 
His wandering mind had sought, — and 
sought in vain — 
Some errant word; 
But with the breaking dawn that brought 

release, 
The pitying angel's voice bade effort cease, 
And gently whispered it to him : 'twas 
^Teace." 
He, smiling, heard. 



1906 



[25] 



O^ DECORxVTIOiS" DAY 

E. H. G. 

Where sunshine soft drifts gently down 

Through Maytime's tender leaves, 
And silence lays its soothing touch 

Upon the heart that grieves, 
A mother and her little child 

In hand-clasp warm and sweet 
Walked with a quiet reverence 

Alono^ Death's "Tassv street. 

^N'o spoken words between them passed ; 

Her thoughts were of the dead, 
As flowers brought by loving hands 

Bestrewed each mossy bed; 
And his dear heart was saddened 

By the strangely solemn place, 
Till, suddenly, a flitting smile 

Lit up his shadowed face. 

[26] 



IN FLIGHT 

It trembled — then shone steadily, 

By inner radiance fed, 
— 'Twas like the sunlight through the leaves 

That flickered overhead, — 
"Oh, mother, I'm so glad!" he cried, 

And stopped to look about, 
"Just see ! On every soldier's grave 

A flag has blossomed out!" 



[27 1 



IlSr MEMOKY 

J. B. M. 

The Great Physician, standing calm and strong, 
Received with gentleness the suffering throng, 
And touching them with healing hands, He 

blessed and bade them go ; 
So one who stood in these our later days 
(With voices hushed his name we softly praise) 
Awaited, healed, and with his kindness blessed 

the child of woe. 

Swift burned the fire of his consuming zeal 
To lighten weights humanity must feel. 

Before our wondering eyes he worked his mir- 
acles of will; 
He freed the mind, he made the dumb to talk. 
And to the maimed he said, "Arise and walk;" 
Each cry for help he answered by a deed of 
daring skill. 

[28] 



IN FLIGHT 

So utterly he knew the human frame 
That when for him the ruthless Hunter came, 
Whose quarry he had often wrested in the open 
field, 
He watched each stealthy step as it drew near, 
But faced his foe as one who knew no fear, 
Till in a last, great victory, he fell upon his 
shield. 

His life to save the lives of men he gave ; 
Our benedictions blossom on his grave. 



. .<•'.«(£ ••«.•- eft. ft* — - 



[29] 



BOKD OR FREE 

Who fears the worst, dwells in a darkened place 
Alive with noisome, formless, fluttering things. 

And shrinking backward, shields his covered face 
From contact with their black and hateful 
wings. 

Who hopes the best, goes forth with forehead bare, 
And to the open blue he lifts his face 

And cries, ''All good of earth, of sea, of air. 
Is mine, bv boundless largess of God's grace.'' 



[30] 



THE BEST GIFTS 

Give love! 

So lavish in its overflow 

That freely bathed within its golden flood 

Each seeming ill, transmnted, tnrns to good. 

Give hope ! 

So snbtle in its interchange — 



"•fe' 



Like life's red current from a generous vein 
It feeds the flagging heart made weak by pain. 



Give joy ! 

So vibrant in its^steady thrill 

That each shall know the Christ-child born again, 

And lift the song of glad good will to men. 



[31] 



Ill 

FKOLIC 



HER SUMMER YACATIOK 

First Day. The house is still, 

But I can feel 
Your presence fill 
Each quiet room 
And round me steal 
Like rich perfume. 

P. S, To know you're resting gives me joy, 

Don't worry, now, about your lonely boy. 



Second Day. I heard to-night 

The latest play; 
They call it bright- 
I do not know, 
For far away 



My thoughts would go. 

P. S. They flew, my dear, direct to you; 
I only needed wings to fly there, too! 

[35] 



IN FLIGHT 

Third Day. How dull and drear 

Each passing day ! 
When you are here 
So fast they go, 
Time disappears 

Like melting snow. 

P. S. I feel so deucedly depressed! 

Much longer, dearest, do you need to rest? 

Fourth Day. The house is still ; 

I seem to feel 

Gray specters fill 

Each quiet room 

And round me steal 

In ghostly gloom. 
P. S. What madness made me let you roam? 

For heaven's sake, my precious wife, come home! 



[36] 



THE SOLEMN TKUTH 

His father's very counterpart, 

The man that is to be, 
He came, our sturdy little son, 

And leaned upon my knee. 

With overflow of tenderness 

I gazed into his eyes, 
And longed to cast my horoscope 

In those unclouded skies. 

"Why do you love your mother so ? 

Now, tell me truly, sweet !" 
"Why, muwer dear,'' he said, "it's 'cause 

You make good sings to eat !" 



[37] 



THE NEW MAID 

Her blue eyes mind me of a doll; 

Her flaxen braids are fair to see ; 
'Tis truth to sav that, all in all, 

She's just as Swede as she can be. 



I 38] 



A SYMPATHETIC TEAK 

A SAD and solemn thing it is 

To see a strong man cry. 
I gazed in dumb bewilderment 

And mutely questioned why. 

My author-friend but waved his hand 

To slips of varied hue ; 
''The Judge regrets, and Life regrets, 

Atlantic Monthly, too; 

''The Century and Harpers both, — 
They all regret — oh, dear! 

The world's so full of sorry men 
It makes me drop a tear." 



[39] 



THEIE BEASTLY GOSSIP 

Said the ant's little niece to the bee, ''Yes, it's out ! 
Why shouldn't it be with you buzzing about, 
And others by no means too small to refuse 
To go mousing around for a choice bit of news ? 
The bear facts are these : It has long been a-bruin ; 
That tail-bearing squirrel suspected their wooin'. 
And whispered the parrot, who talks without 

reason, 
That even the bat would see things in due 
season. 
The owl shut her eyes, and with face sanctimoni- 
ous. 
At first just asked, 'Whoo ?' then hoped 'twas 
erroneous. 
And said, if 'twere not, she was morally certain 
That Mr. Cock Sparrow, as usual, was flirtin'. 

Then the crow boldly claimed he could offer good 

caws 

[40] 



IN FLIGHT 

Why they should not be joined, if they cared for 
the laws. 
The hyena laughed, and the catamount grinned, 
And, all things together, past bearing they 
sinned. 
It really was lion of unusual scope, 
And I say it's no wonder it made antelope !" 

Said the bee to the ant, as he poised to take wing, 
^^Do me justice ! I never intended to sting ! 
We esteem your dear ant, and will prove our 

good will 
By a great welcome home that shall quite fill 
the bill. 
We'll have it at night, in the gnu city park. 
And you just mark my words, there will be a big 
lark. , 

We'll say to them all, 'If a jaguar after 
Don't take it in gossip, but have one of laugh- 
ter!' 

[41] 



IN FLIGHT 

Just write your new uncle to chirrup at once, 

And your ant to forget all these beastly affronts. 
For we know what is due to our friends newly 

wed, 
And the peacocks are planning a post-nuptial 
spread. 

From hillside and valley their deer friends are 
coming — 

Three cheers and a tiger ! ]^ow I must be hum- 
ming !" 



[42] 



A WAEM FIGHT 

^'You sing too loud !" The fire roared 

At the kettle, with much heat. 
Said she, ^'Your way of blazing out 

At me is far from sweet; 
You quite deserve to be put out ! 

To see it I'd be glad ! 
Your conduct fairly makes me boil, 

And my cover's hopping mad !" 



[43] 



MAKING THINGS DO 

When Mother gets mj last year's coat 

And scans it carefully, 
I'm hoping every minute 

Till she sighs, and says to me, 
"Re-lined, 'twill seem almost like new — 
I think, dear^ we can make it do." 

When Papa takes my half-worn shoes 

And turns them every way, 
I know beforehand just the words 

That he is sure to say : 
It's "Well, my child, they're not worn through. 
Re-soled, you'll have to make them do." 

And when, next day, that Sylvia Brown 

Puts out, with saucy flirt. 
Her shiny, patent leather shoe, 

I lengthen down my skirt 

[44] 



IN FLIGHT 

And think, "I s'pose she never knew 
What 'tis to have to make things do," 

But worst was when my sister Jane 

Tried on her half-worn dress 
And said what made me furious, 

I may as well confess ; 
''It's out of style ; but sister Sue, 
Just as it iS; can make it do." 

That time I cried — well, yes, I did, 

But when my Papa came. 
And whispered something low to me. 

My face just burned for shame : 
He said, "With such a girl as you, 
Your daddy's proud to make things do !" 



[45] 



A bor:^ diplomat 

With longing admiration 
Wee Nora, three years old, 

Gazed on her playmate's locket, 
A gem of shining gold. 

At last, by dint of coaxing 
From her persuasive tongue. 

For just ^^one little minute'' 
Upon her neck it hung. 

Then pausing not an instant 

Her image to admire, 
This wily little schemer, 

With plans for conquest higher, 

Looked up with artful sweetness : 

*'0h, Arabella Vaughn, 
You do look so much nicer 

Wivout a locket on!" 
[46] 



NED'S BIRTHDAY WISH 

The birthday cake was beautiful, 

A mountain high and white, 
All trimmed with name and age in red 

And candles burning bright. 

^'Now, children, wish !" said mamma dear, 

^^And blow the candles out ! 
I see that Ned is thinking hard, 

What can it be about ?" 

^'T wish — I wish " said Ned, and paused, 

Another look to take, 
'^I wish," he finished solemnly, 

^^It w^as a bigger cake !'' 



[47] 



SANTA'S SUBSTITUTE 

Little baby daughter, 

Pretty lips a-poiit, 
In a fit of temper 

Tossed her things about; 
Till I drew her to me 

Saying, "I've been told 
Santa only visits 

Children good as gold." 

Downcast little figure 

Sudden sat erect; 
"Good each minute, Mama? 

That's too much to 'spect ! 
S'pose he shouldn't come here 

With the toys he brings, 
Couldn't you just get me 

Some little bits of things ?" 

[48] 



MEKKY CHRISTMAS 

Within a shaded upper room 

A gentle lady lies, 
The glow of fever on her cheek 

And blazing in her eyes. 

Beside her, nurse and doctor seek 

To quiet her in vain; 
With restless, eager hand she writes 

Upon the counterpane 

Imaginary labels to 

Imaginary gifts, 
Which loud she reads, as on her arm 

Her weary frame she lifts. 

^Trom baby-girl to father dear f 
''To mother, from Helene;" 

"The season's greetings to my friend/' 
''With love from brother Gene." 

[49] 



IN FLIGHT 

^^^ow bring the baby ribbon here, 
And hand the parcels — so. 

The red goes with the holly, 
The white with mistletoe." 

Then endless, unseen packages. 
With trembling hand she ties, 

Stopping, at last, but not to rest, 
"The telephone !'' she cries. 

"Call the expressman instantly ! 

I feel a — little — tired — 
There ! Merry, merry Christmas !" 

She sank back and expired. 



[50] 



IV 
THEOUGH THE YEAE 



JAISrUAKY BELLS 

An old-fashioned sleighing idyl 

The air is clear and crisp and bright, 
The snow is sparkling, smooth and white, 
And tempted by their magic might 
The bells and I are out. 

E'ow gliding swiftly down the street 
My happy eyes with rapture greet 
Two dainty forms with faces sweet. 
Ah, ha ! The belles are out. 

I quickly stop, and, not denied 
The boon I asked, soon side by side, 
With laugh and jest away we glide, 
The belles and I are out! 

Swift as the wind, with hearts so gay, 
We dash along a crowded way. 
When — cruel fate upsets my sleigh ! 
The belles and I are out! 
[53] 



IN FLIGHT 

Excuses uttered o'er and o'er 
Avail me naught; we reach the door 
And coldly part. Forevermore 
The belles and I are out! 



[54] 



FEBRUAEY SECOISTD 

S. H, S. 

Brother Groui^dhog, our Te Salutamus 

We offer again, as of yore, 
But your prophecies kind, the most of us find 

We simply don't need any more. 

We are voicing the voice of the people, 
There's hardly a shadow of doubt, 

To the average brain it's a terrible strain 
To follow your "in" and your "out." 

And the man is a real rara avis 

Who, suddenly asked to explain. 
Whether seeing your shade means spring soon 
or delayed. 

Doesn't stammer and struggle in vain. 

So, a fig for your prognostications ! 
We're tired of this annual fuss ! 

[55] 



IN FLIGHT 



And if sunshine you see — or whatever it be — 
You can't cast a shadow on us. 

For we know that the winter is going, 
We know that the springtime is near, 

With its birds and its flowers and its sunshiny 
hours. 
To whisper of hope and good cheer. 

For a birthday celebration. 



[56] 



rOEEEUNNERS 

MARCH 

Sprijs'g is coming — coming fast ! 
Whispering breezes hurry past ; 

Something brewing! 
Listen ! They are telling how 
There are pussy-willows now 

Almost mewing. 

Through the ice the little brook, 
Laughing, runs to take a look, 

Brightly blinking; 
While the leaves, in peaked hoods, 
]N'od and beckon in the woods. 

Slyly winking. 

Secrets ! Secrets in the air ! 
Eound about the barnyard bare 

Speeds Old Dobbin; 
And before him — see, there goes 
On his blue and yellow toes 

The first robin! 

[57] 



APRIL RAIN 

It isn't raining rain to me, It isn't raining: rain to me, 

It's rainine: daffodils ; But fields of clover bloom, 

In every dimpled drop I see Where any buccaneering: bee 

Wild flowers on the hills. May find a bed and room. 
The clouds of grray engulf the day A health unto the happy, 

And overwhelm the town— A fig: for him who frets- 
It isn't raining: r&in to me. It isn't raining: rain to me, 

It's raining: roses down. It's raining: riolets. 

ROBERT LO^'EMAN 



APKIL s:n'ow 

To the author of " April Rain." 

It isn't snowing snow to me, 

It's snowing aches and ills ; 
In every tiny flake I see 

A dozen doctor's bills. 
The clouds of gray engulf the day 

And overwhelm the town; 
It isn't snowing snow to me, 

It's snowing trouble down. 

It isn't snowing snow to me, 
It's snowing noses blue ; 

Goose-pimples, shivers, rheumatiz. 
And influenza, too. 
[ 58 ] 



IN FLIGHT 

A health unto the summer! 

But you can make your bets, 
It isn^t snowing snow to me, 

It^s snowing vile rngrets. 



[50] 



MAY 

Want to banish April's tears, 

You, May? 
Laugh away our doubts and fears, 

You, May? 
Flood the earth with sunshine gay. 
And through every livelong day 
Scatter blossoms on our way ? 

You may. 

Want to promise then still more. 

You, May? 
Tell us all June holds in store. 

You, May? 
She'll be welcome — ^never fear! 
But we know who is the dear 
Dainty lady of the year — 

You, May! 

[ 60 ] 



JUISTE 

June ! June ! June ! June ! 
Rollicking, frolicking, merry-mad tune ! 
Now the poet must sing- 
Like a bird on the wing, 
With a lilt and a tilt and a lift in the measure, 
For the sober old world has gone tipsy with 

pleasure, 
And his heart beats in time with the magical tune : 
Rollicking, frolicking, merry-mad June ! 



l61] 



JULY 

Midsummer ; and the fervent lieat 

Has swept the lovely garden bare of flowers, 

Save for a few intrepid blooms which fling 
A gaj defiance to the sultry hours. 

The scorching heat of circumstance 

With blighting power bends many natures low ; 
But men of mettle, like the tempered steel, 

Gain strength and beauty in its fiery glow. 



[62] 



MY HAY-FEVEK SWEETHEAET 

AUGUST 

I LOVE her, and I told her so. 

And for an answer teased. 
She gave me just a hasty glance, 

Then sneezed and sneezed and sneezed. 

"Oh, cruel, heartless maid!" I cried; 

"Mj wooing you despise !" 
And then I stopped, encouraged, as 

I saw her streaming eyes. 

But, as I tried to coax her, then. 

To listen to mv woes, 
She took her little handkerchief 

And blew her little nose. 

I turned, impatiently, to go. 

But heard a gentle call; 
'^Oh, please, please, cub agaid," it said, 

"Cub later id the fall!" 

[63] 



golde:nt-kod 

In the days I dreamed, 

Time was that you seemed 
With your slender torches lightly springing, 

Youth's exultant fire, 

Buoyant brave desire, 
Golden flame from earth to heaven upwinging. 

Memory-month you are; 

Down the years from far 
Come the visions bright of past Septembers ; 

Golden-rod, to me 

!N^ow you seem to be 
Of those joyous fires the glowing embers. 

September twenty-second 



[64] 



OCTOBER 

Sweet Summer turns with parting smile, 
And, last of many a dainty wile, 
Her silvery veil she sets adrift, 

A gossamer maze. 
Down, down it floats, a fairy mist. 
Above the land by sunshine kissed. 
And lo! — as wondering eyes we lift — 

October haze I 



[65] 



THANKSGIVKsTG 

For grief unsuffered, tears unshed, 
For clouds that scattered overhead ; 
For pestilence that came not nigh, 
For dangers great that j^assed us by ; 
For blood unspilled in wars unfought, 
For deeds of wrong and shame unwrought ; 
For sharp suspicion, soothed, allayed. 
For doubt dispelled that made afraid ; 
For fierce temptation well withstood, 
For evil plot which brought forth good ; 
For weakened links in friendship's chain 
That, sorely tested, stood the strain ; 
For harmless blows with malice dealt, 
For base ingratitude unfelt; 
For hatred's keen, unuttered word. 
For bitter jest, unkno^vn, unheard ; 
For every evil turned away. 
Unmeasured thanks we give to-day. 

November, 1907 

[66] 



CHEISTMAS-WEEATH 

Firelight and candlelight 
Illumine all the place ; 

Best of all the lovelight 

That shines upon her face. 



Ilolly-wreaths bedeck the wall 
And snow-wreaths the ground ; 

Best of all the little ring 

That wreathes her finger round. 



[67] 



V 
SHADOWS 



MY WALL OF COMFOKTS 

Across a still, unshadowed day 
A sudden frenzy burned its way. 
Fair violets of blue and gold 
Were crushed within my frightened hold, 
While meadows I had hoped to tread 
Lay seared and desolate and dead; 
And all the future, wrapped in cloud. 
Swept from my sight, a flaming shroud. 

How could I hide that blackened waste ! 
I turned me in a fevered haste, 
With hands that trembled, eyes that filled, 
xind set me straight a wall to build. 
Out from the comforts of the past 
I brought my treasures — drew them fast. 
The loving smiles, the tender care. 
The hope, the courage, strength to bear, 

[ 71 J 



IN FLIGHT 

The understanding sympathy, 

Of all life's gifts the best to me. 

Lo ! as I placed them, one by one, 

All clear and glistening they shone ; 

Each joy remembered grew a block 

Of immemorial granite rock. 

Until before me, firm and true, 

My wall towered high against the blue. 

"Oh, live not in the past!" you say, 
Who know not of that darkened day: 
My Wall of Comforts builded high 
Shall be my shelter till I die. 



[72] 



WHITHEK ? 

But yesterday and thou wert here — where hast 
thou gone to-day ? 

I need the hand that held my own so closely all 
the way ! 

With yearning eyes I lift my face unto the bend- 
ing sky, 

Like phantom armies, steadily the snowy clouds 
sweep by: 

In sobbing call my voice goes out across the rest- 
less wave, 

^N^o sound returns — no echo from that deep and 
soulless grave. 

I turn with pleading, hopeless, and seek the forest 
lone. 

Mysteriously whispering, the mighty tree-tops 

moan. 
In frenzy of despair I beat upon the bars of 

Death ; 

[73] 



IN FLIGHT 

^'Where went my love who left me in the passing of 

a breath?^' 
For answer only silence, and my heart-beats fall 

like lead, 
As I listen, listen, listen, at the doorway of the 

dead. 

1907 



[74] 



BUT o:n^ce 

Oh, loved one, somewhere out of reach 

Of clinging hands and calling, calling voice, 
Part thou the vail let fall between, and say to me 

"Grieve not, but know that I rejoice." 
Or send the sunshine warm of thy dear smile 

To flood my empty heart once more. 
And lonely years were days, while severed ties 

Were cable-bands made fast to yonder shore. 



[75] 



HEAKT'S WI:N^TER 

Eaeth holds no colder thing than this, 
The grudging, hasty-given kiss 

To lips that wait ; 
Save one alone — the death-stilled heart, 
Past craving love, past suffering smart. 

Avenged by fate. 



[7e| 



BELGIUM 

August, 19 lU 

The bells are tolling, tolling, 

Their echoes fill the air; 
But from their tongues is rolling 

ISTo message of despair. 

"Come ! Come !" they call, 

"To stand or fall 



For Belgium!" 



Wild voices swelling, swelling 
Tumultuous to the sky; 

A nation's chorus, telling- 
One heart-beat in reply. 
"Joy! Joy!" they cry, 
"To win or die 
For Belgium !" 

[77] 



IN FLIGHT 

November^ 191Jf 

An army vast, of broken ranks, drags slowly 

through a blighted land 
Like some great wave which, rolling back, leaves 

ghastly wreckage on the strand. 
^0 tolling bells call loud to arms while answering 

voices thrill the air, 
But heart-beats stop, to flutter on, half-paralyzed 

with slow despair ; 
For haggard women, footsore, cold, with starving 

babes and children wan, 
Xo homes to leave and none to seek — go, hopeless, 
blindly journeying on. 

''Woe! Woe!" they cry, 
''To us who live. 
While men must die 
For Belgium!" 



[78] 



THE AMEEICA]^ MOTHEK 

With sorrow-softened face she stands 
And folds the heap of snowy gauze 

With gentle hands : 
For crowding visions fill the air 
And make of every thought a prayer : 

This piteous work must needs be done 
To staunch the blood of someone's son ; 
Tliat 'tis not mine, my only one, 
(Oh, is it sin — this joy within?) 
I thank Thee, God! 

Could labor hope of rescue bring 

The saddened hours would not creep by 

On weary wing ; 

But crowding visions fill the air 

And still her thoughts go up in prayer : 

For each brave lad whose blood must flow 
A mother's heart is bleeding slow; 
That mine such anguish does not know 
(Oh, dare I say — this shadowed day?) 
I bless Thee, God! 

[79] 



IN FLIGHT 

Those mother-hearts ! In utter shame 

Of ruthless waste, her spirit springs 

To burning flame; 

And visions crowding all the air 

She pours her very soul in prayer: 

Thou Son of God, from whose thorn-crown 
For son of man red drops ran down, 
As in that hour Thy tender thought 
Compassion for Thy mother sought, 
Oh, look on motherhood to-day 
And take this cup of grief away: 
In mercy heed our bitter need. 
God, give us peace! 

December', 1914 



[80] 



VI 
A LOVELY DAY 



A LOVELY DAY 

As friendly voices say, in parting chime, 
"Good-bye, dear ones, we've had a lovely time P' 
So when I know that I must go away, 
I'll say, "Good-bye, we've had a lovely day !" 
The clouded skies we've knov^ra, the rain, the sleet, 
But made the sunshine brighter, flowers more 

sweet. 
Each hour within my heart is treasured fast. 
And each is loveliest because the last. 
Their joy is mine forever, come what may ; 
"Good-bye, good-bye, we've had a lovely day!" 



[83] 



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